Gotham College
by FreddoBarter
Summary: Adventure/Comedy/Can't-really-place-it AU imagining of what Batman and co. would be like during college/university. More info in my AN inside. May or may not be a standalone depending on if I get good feedback. Rated K/T for potential future chapters (I know where I want to go with this). No pairings, other than background Joker/Harley. No slash, no lemon. Hope you enjoy.
1. Lunchtime

_**DISCLAIMER - **Batman, Gotham etc are all owned by DC Comics. You know this, I know this. Non profit, purely fanmade, yadda yadda yadda. Let's get to the Author's Notes and then we can get onto the actual fan-fiction._

**AN: **This is an alternate universe-ish thing where Batman and other characters are plopped into a university/college setting instead of a city (no, I didn't know about the would-be show that has a similar idea. Great minds think alike).

Being British, I'm bound to get stuff about the American system wrong, so feel free to _**nicely** _point out my flaws in the comments. I still need a beta.

**-Gotham College-**

_Bruce Wayne is a rich orphan who has spent his formative years in an expensive boarding school, but has had to move back to gotham to attend college. His gothic dress sense and introverted personality does little to earn him friends, but certainly attracts the attentions of Gotham College's stranger students…_

As Bruce made his way into the cafeteria for the first time, he was met with quite a peculiar sight. There is a definite rift in the students, some flocking to the attractive redhead with flowers in her hair, others sycophantically submitting to the every whim of a short, snobbish-looking boy dressed in (of all things) a tuxedo. The amnesty between these two groups was so intense that bruce felt the need to skirt around the edge of the hall toward the food. As he continued to survey his surroundings, he noticed that there were a few that had were not in the two major clusters of hormones, and as he observed their behaviour it was clear why.

These kids were the ones the dean had warned him about - the ones that hung out in the Arkham wing of the building and gave even the most hardened lecturers headaches. A burly boy, that would have easily fitted in with some of the jocks had it not been for his obvious and unfortunate case of acne, eyed him warily from the far exit, flipping a quarter higher and higher without checking, as if it were a warning… Near to him, huddled away in the corner, were the two most intriguing teens by far; a boy and a girl.

The girl, who was wearing what could only be described as a combination of a fetishised nurse's outfit and some uncomfortably tight red and black leather trousers, seemed to be doting on the boy - who was seemingly unaware of her presence, instead focused on shaping his mashed potato into the shape of the comedy and tragedy masks, giggling to himself all the while.

Bruce managed to get his food without incident and made his way to sit down in a secluded corner, as far away from any potential conflict as possible. However, fortune failed him at this point, and as he passed the second-largest swarm of students, a cold, British voice sailed past him.

"You there, new guy. Your name's Bruce, right?"

Holding back a sigh, he turned to find the source of the interruption to his so-far perfect day… the boy in a tuxedo stared directly at him in anticipation of his response.

"Yes, why?"

"My name's Oswald, pleased to make your acquaintance… Word is that you've got easy access to more than a little cash. You're going to want to be careful, a lot of people here will just try to be friends with you so they can grasp at a few notes here and there. If you like, I can give you a few pointers of who to avoid."

Every word felt to Bruce like it had been carefully constructed to _sound_ as non-threatening as possible, whilst leaving a lingering mist of vague threat in the air. Mentally running through his options, Bruce decided it was best to try and reject the offer without causing too much offense.

"Thanks, Oswald, but right now I just want to eat my lunch before my afternoon workshop."

Silence hung in the air as the majority of the student body fixed their gazes on the two boys… Even the boy in the corner had stopped giggling for a bit and, with some effort, had managed to focus his eyes intently on Bruce.

"Very well, just thought I'd give you a friendly head's-up… Not everyone's as philanthropic as I am, you know"

The silence was replaced by a subdued buzz of whispered conversation as Bruce made his way over to an unoccupied table and sat down. As his thoughts wandered to the social structure of the institution he was in and how best to survive it, a shadow meandered it's way onto his table and the caster of it plopped down with a jovial levity opposite him.

"Cheer up, bat-boy! You were bound to make an impact wandering through the war zone dressed like Count Dracula" came an odd sounding voice from across the table.

Looking up, Bruce found himself face to face (about 3 inches apart) with the giggling boy from earlier. His alabaster skin almost translucent under the fluorescent lighting, the haggard-looking boy in a bright purple hoody smiled eerily at him, showing nearly all of his yellowing teeth.

Backing away to get a better look at his unwanted company (as well as to regain some of his personal space), Bruce realised that the hair he had mistaken at a distance for a dirty blond was actually a poorly died green, messed up to such an extent that it must have been deliberate. Desperately trying to think of a way to get the stranger to leave him alone, he managed to stammer out,

"I- I wasn't sad, I was just thinking."

"Absent minded, eh? It's funny… they say my mind's been absent for years! Can you imagine?!"

"N- No…"

"I certainly can! Anyway, dear old Harley's getting impatient, she wants to play 'nursies' again, apparently. You should swing over to Arkham sometime, Bats. You'd fit _right_ in. We're missing some of the gang today, but I'm sure you'll love them when you meet them!"

Suddenly, like a marionette puppet being jerked up, the strange teenager jumped out of the seat he was in and hazily made his way back over to his corner, humming a song that Bruce was sure he recognised but couldn't place. Groaning at how poorly his attempts at going unnoticed during lunch were, Bruce decided to take his lunch off the tray so he could find a quiet place to sit… Most definitely alone.

Leaning against the chimney top of the currently abandoned La Scala building, Bruce sighed with content and pulled the apple from his bag, taking solace in his brief moment of peace before he had to return down there. Next period was computing, though, so he wasn't too fussed… There aren't many excuses people have to talk to you in front of a computer.


	2. Computing

**_[Insert witty and well worded disclaimer regarding my lack of ownership over all things Batman here]_**

**AN: **As you can tell by the new chapter, I've decided that 2 people saying it's good is good enough for me. I'll keep this story going until I resolve whatever lame excuse for a plot I come up with and/or until you're sick of it.

**-Gotham College-**

Bruce was the first to arrive at his workshop - the virtue of not being in the canteen towards the end of lunch was that he was unaffected by the small riot that had broken out after his brief excursion with the strange boy in the purple hoodie… a riot that took nearly all of the faculty to break up.

By the time the rest of his classmates had arrived, Bruce had already written a script that would solve the problem they had been set for the week, and was busy occupying himself with something far more important; getting into (and carefully trawling through) the college databanks in an effort to get as much information on his peers as possible.

He silently continued this way through the majority of the period, making notes of names and quickly mentally profiling everyone he could, just in case any of them appeared to be a threat to him. Getting through to the mid "C"s, a forename stood out - the first forename he'd learnt since arriving.

_Cobblepot, Oswald C._

_Studying: Management_

_Breaches of Discipline: Numerous accounts of instigating fights between other students, two counts of theft of university property, and one account of physical violence towards a fellow student (Miss Pamela Isley)_

_Disciplinary Actions Taken: One week solitary confinement for thefts, weekly meetings with university counselling to establish the need for confrontation._

Frowning and intrigued, Bruce stopped his database browsing and instead focused his interests on locating and accessing the notes that the counsellors were bound to have kept. Although he could profile well enough, having read and re-read many books on the topic, Bruce was curious about what professionals thought of the boy in the tuxedo. Several minutes of reading later, Bruce was satisfied that his assessment was accurate. Egotistical and stubborn, with a superiority complex and a slew of other neuroses, Oswald was_ definitely_ someone Bruce decided he should avoid.

Before he could go back to his place in the student database, he heard a female voice over his left shoulder, breaking him from his reverie.

"You've finished early too, huh?"

Bruce blinked, stunned, as a girl he didn't recognise slumped into the chair next to him, eyeing him thoughtfully.

"Didn't think you'd break into the database so soon though, from what I've read, you should have taken at least a couple of days."

"Sorry, but… Who are you?"

"My name's Barbara. Judging by the fact that you were just reading heavily into Oswald's counselling, you won't have read about me yet. Unless of course you went in reverse alphabetical order. Have you?"

Bruce looked at her in mild bewilderment. Not many girls spoke to him, and even fewer did it of their own accord… To talk about hacking, no less.

"No. How long until I get to you?"

"Well you got through three and a half letters in just under an hour, so if you continue at that rate, another hour or so and you'll have enough information on me that we'll be able to talk without looking like I'm wearing something ridiculous like a spandex outfit."

"Sorry, it's just… How do you know about me? The first thing I checked was my own name, I'm not on the system yet."

"Ah, now that's a secret you've got to deduce for yourself, Mister Doom-and-Gloom. Now I'm off, the bell's about to go and the management course gets next use of the computer labs."

Packing his stuff (which only consisted of a USB containing copies of the student database and counselling notes) away quickly, Bruce checked his timetable to see that he was done for the day. Grunting, he lugged his bag out of the labs before he had to run into Oswald for the second time that day.

_"At least she seemed saner than the other people who inflicted their presence on me… Wonder how she knows so much about me though."_

**Additional AN:** Sorry this is a slightly shorter chapter, I'm going to aim for each one to be 700-1000 words in length before I add in all the fun legal bullshit and my self-indulgent whittering. Enjoy! I'll try and keep on some sort of schedule, but I'm easily distracted and don't have a clear idea about what I want to do in the next chapter, so don't hold your breath.


	3. Wayne Manor

_**Disclaimer: **If you need telling that I don't pretend to own Batman, then you're probably more than a bit slow._

**AN: **Sorry for the gap in updates being a little larger than normal, I didn't have much inspiration for this chapter and I traveled home for Easter, which has skewed my routine a little. This will feel a little filler-y, because nothing happens, but I like it because it has characterisation in it. Yaaaaay, characterisation!

**AN2: **I also apparently decided to post this chapter in the middle of the alerts problems that is currently experiencing, so umm... Whoops. Sorry if you see this one a little late because of that problem as well.

**-Gotham College-**

Bruce arrived at back at Wayne Manor after what felt like a week long journey through Gotham's underground rail system, slinging his satchel into the corner of the entrance hall and lurching his way towards the nearest seat - he needed something to drop himself into for a few hours.

"Ah Bruce, nice of you to announce your return by slamming the front door"

For what seemed like the first time that day, Bruce felt a small smile play across his lips at Alfred's reprimand,

"Well I tried closing it quietly, but that damn thing is so old and the hinges are so rusted that nothing short of a hard shoulder can make it close properly."

"Keep complaining about it all you like, they're not going to be fixed if you don't help. You know my back's bad and I can't grease them without you getting the oil out of the garage for me."

"Yeah yeah… Anything interesting happen while I was at college?"

"Nothing really… Post arrived, I almost forgot you weren't in - what with you hardly ever surfacing anyway - and some elderly lady came around to talk about some trust fund"

"Was she your type?"

Bruce's ageing godfather chuckled, "No, she was seventy plus, I'm only just closing in on fifty. Did you have a good first day at college?" He knew it was a long shot to get his best friend's son to open up, but this was the longest conversation he and Bruce had had since he got back from boarding school in the summer, and he always liked to try his luck.

"Meh, nothing out of the ordinary. Computing is insultingly easy as always, I climbed to the roof of a disused building, and a couple of guys talked to me. Nothing to write home about or else I'd have sent you a text."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "why do you insist on seeing if you can get to the highest point of a given location?" He paused, waiting for Bruce to respond. "Anyway, you said 'guys' … I'm guessing that means no girls were drawn to your 'tall, dark, and mysterious stranger' routine then?"

Bruce's wistful smirk slowly turned contemplative, "well, not exactly. The one girl that did speak to me already knew who I was… Which was disconcerting to say the least."

"Have you picked up a stalker already, Bruce? It usually takes you at least a week, from what you've told me."

"Not sure… She's good with computers though, didn't seem surprised that I was looking at the college database."

"You got caught?"

"No… It was more like, she expected me to be on it when she came over."

"Well, please don't piss her off like you did with the last one, I'm still having trouble getting that loo roll out of the gutter."

"I'll try. Anyway, I'm going to my room, I have stuff to do for tomorrow."

"Like what? Sounds to me like you're already done with computing for a while. You're not trying to get out of helping fix this place up, are you?"

"Pretty much… once a dump, always a dump."

To call Wayne Manor a dump wasn't strictly fair, but it wasn't far from the truth either. It was a moderately large house - four bedrooms, three storeys, a basement, a garage and a large backyard - but it was severely dilapidated. The Waynes had nicknamed it "The Manor" ironically shortly after moving there, as it was a large step up from their two bedroom apartment, and had every intention of fixing it up over the next few years. Before their untimely deaths in a mugging gone wrong, all they'd managed to do was give the door a new lick of paint and help Bruce convert the basement into his bedroom. They left "The Manor" to Alfred, who had been Thomas' best friend since childhood, and he took it in his heart as an obligation to finish what they'd started and hand it down to Bruce when it was complete. Obviously, Bruce didn't know, he just thought his Godfather was a DIY manic.

-0-

Bruce flopped onto his bed with a small groan. He'd forgotten what it was like not having someone to talk to between lessons, and besides Barbara, everyone he met at college had either no brains, a list of mental problems longer than his arm, or both. Thinking about her reminded him that he still knew nothing of this strange girl, so he trudged back up to the hall, retrieved the USB from his bag and returned to what Alfred had taken to calling "the cave" on account of it's limited heating and Bruce's taste in decor.

**Another AN: **I tried writing Alfred as a butler like in the comics but I couldn't. So I didn't. Obviously the sensible solution was to scale down Wayne Manor and butcher a wonderful character. I'm sorry DC.


	4. Her Surname is Gordon

**_I don't own Batman, I just wish I could be him._**

**AN:** Right, here's another chapter. I'll start working on something that resembles a plot soon, but first I have to ask you nicely to let me know I'm doing alright. I crave the adoration (or at least tolerance) of strangers on the internet!

**-Gotham College-**

Bruce's jaw dropped as he reached Barbara's entry in his copy of the school database... He'd always been fascinated with the law enforcement, and idolised certain outstanding members from around the country... officers such as Chief Inspector Gordon of the Gotham Police Department.

There it was, clear as day in front of him under Barbara's personal information, her father listed as James Gordon. It couldn't be coincidence. A quick background search on the internet and through some phonebooks confirmed it - there was only one James Gordon in Gotham, and it was his idol.

Then it struck him; She'd read up on him... Inspector Gordon must have access to a copy of his (admittedly very short) criminal record... It made sense, he figured. Why wouldn't the cops have a database of committed felonies? But now his daughter knew Bruce was still committing cyber-crimes; she was bound to inform his idol at the first opportunity. This was his last strike… he was going to jail this time for certain.

He raced up from his room, looking for Alfred. If he had to go to jail, it was better that his godfather found out from him instead of from an officer later.

"She's called Barbara Gordon"

"Who?"

"The girl who saw me hacking today. She's the chief inspector's daughter!"

"Reconsidering her romantically so you can meet an idol, Bruce? That's not very chivalrous."

Bruce's patience with Alfred was at its tether - he was obviously panicked, not excited, why didn't he make the connection? He knew just as well as Bruce that he already had two strikes to his name. Why was he not worried? Before he could voice any of these concerns, however, Alfred answered them for him.

"She sat down next to you, talked to you, and basically told you who she was. I know you have a way of picking them, but it takes a special kind of heartless to deliberately cause that much panic in a man. If she wanted to turn you in, she could have quietly sent her dad a text right then and there. If she had, you'd have a lovely police escort waiting for you when you got in earlier."

For the second time that evening, Bruce's jaw metaphorically bruised itself on the closest flat surface. He had just been logic-bombed by _Alfred_. And more annoyingly, he was _right_. He struggled to come up with a response for a good five seconds;

"Oh. What do you think she meant by it then?"

"Unlike you, young'un, I'm not an expert in girls that up until recently were teenagers, but if I had to guess, that sounded like an introduction. A quite forward one, might I add."

Bruce sighed. He didn't want to get into a relationship, especially not with the kind of girl that introduced themselves by inducing a delayed-action heart attack.

"I suppose I could talk to her tomorrow in computing, we have that first."

"It's better than getting her cell number from the database and sending her an anonymous text."

*-Next morning, at college-*

"Hey."

"Mr. Dark-and-Brooding has initiated conversation? That's novel. I assume now that you're not looking at me like I'm insane, you know who I am?"

"Yeah, but I'm still not sure you're not insane. Why didn't you tell your dad that I was hacking? You've obviously read my file, so you knew I've broken the law before."

"He doesn't know I've read your file. Admittedly, he shouldn't keep his GPD database access console on our shared computer, but that doesn't give me the right to snoop about it."

"Ooh, the daughter of the great Inspector Gordon hacking her own father's database? What would the papers say if they ever found out?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm a rebellious daughter. I can just imagine the psychiatrists lining up to slap an Oedipus complex on me or something."

Bruce laughed quietly. They'd sat at the back of the computer lab, in the corner, and as both had already finished the week's task they had practically two hours to kill. Bruce had finished browsing the database last night, and figured that it would be a good use of his time to get to know Barbara better. It would be nice to have at least one friend again.

"So why'd you read up on me anyway? I'm no-one special"

"I didn't really mean to read up on you specifically, but after getting access to dad's console I regularly log in to see if there's any juicy news. He tells me a lot, like what areas to avoid and stuff like that, but I learnt a while ago that he keeps the most violent crimes from me. I figured that if I wanted to keep myself as safe as possible, I needed to know everything. Anyway, I logged into his console and there was an alert for a new person of interest - that's you, by the way - with a note saying that you'd be in my class. I figured I'd read it to see if you're dangerous or not. You're not."

"Thanks for the confirmation, I guess."

"No problem really, so what are you doing back in Gotham?"

After a rather enjoyable bout of small talk, the bell that signalled the end of their session went off.

"Wanna go grab something to eat now and evade the canteen at lunch? It usually gets pretty messy in there and I heard you caused quite a stir with Oswald yesterday"

"You could say that. I think I accidentally issued him a challenge or something yesterday... luckily I managed to get out of there before the war started."

"You think yesterday was bad? Most of the goons don't really show up on Mondays… that was a small scuffle compared to midweek."

"The goons?"

"Did you happen to see a pale kid with dyed hair at all?"

"Yeah, he seemed peculiar. I couldn't find him on the database though."

"Apparently he's actually insanely clever – most kids say he wrote a virus to keep any information of him from staying on the college database for very long - but anyway, he's the ringleader of a bunch of dangerous weird kids I like to call the goons."

"People actually like that guy?"

"I don't understand it personally, but he and his mates have caused Oswald more trouble than anything that poisonous bitch has done in a few years. They don't want influence like he does, they just like to cause trouble."

"How haven't they been kicked out yet?"

"No clue. There are rumours that they're blackmailing pretty much the entire faculty, but I find that hard to believe. Not that I've got any other suggestions, mind."

Pondering this new information, Bruce queued up for his lunch and they ate without interference. He sort of missed not sitting on a roof, but it was a nice change regardless.

**Post-chapter AN: **Now that I've promised to get into a plot, I'd like to advertise for a beta to help improve these. And possibly to poke me back into action whenever I get lazy. At the moment I'm just blurting out a few hundred words at a time, uploading and formatting them, and then hoping for the best. An extra brain to spot mistakes I miss would be very appreciated.


	5. Lucius

_**Disclaimer:** Spider-man, Daredevil and the Avengers belong to Marvel. This has no importance to you, as this is Batman FanFiction, produced by someone who is not DC Comics, but I thought you might want to know anyway._

**-Gotham College-**

"You've been avoiding me, haven't you, Mr. Wayne? It's not a polite to ignore someone who extends their friendship, you know."

Bruce winced as he realised that he hadn't left the computer lab early enough to evade the business students, and more specifically, Oswald. Instead of pushing past the diminutive egotist, he decided it would be better if he could talk his way out of the confrontation.

"It's not that… I just prefer my own company, that's all."

"Does that girl count as your own company then? You two spend a lot of time together."

"That's… different."

"Don't give me that bollocks; you just don't want to be near me, do you? I bet you think you're better than me or something."

Bruce's immediate reaction was to simply reply with "yes", but his better judgement made him pause for a second. Before he could voice a response, Oswald decided to fill the dead space again.

"Listen, if you don't want to make the right connections here that's fine. It's your loss. But snub me again and I'll make sure no-one wants to talk to you again."

With that, he turned and strode through the still-open door to his waiting cronies.

Considering what he'd read on Oswald, Bruce thought he'd got of lightly. In fact, that "threat" probably wasn't even worth the time of day… It wasn't like he was willing to talk to the vast majority of his fellow students; those that weren't violent or unstable were dumb sycophants or scared of the ones that were.

"Hey, Bruce? Bruce! What's up? You've been pulling that frown for a good five minutes and you haven't even started the coursework you said you were going to do. You know the brief, right?"

Barbara shook Bruce out of his musings, softly poking him in the side of his head. "You haven't forgotten the brief, have you?"

"See if it is possible to create a command line that can identify three or more of the example problems and adjust the incorrect code without user interaction. Proof of concepts are due in next friday, if you do not have one you are expected to write a short essay detailing your attempted processes and why they failed" Bruce nonchalantly recited, word for word, from memory.

In the three weeks that she'd got to know him, Barbara had witnessed Bruce had display his impressive (near-eidetic) memory almost daily, but she was still slightly taken aback by the accuracy of his recital and the speed at which he'd responded in.

"Right… Not that, so what is it, gloomy?"

"It's just… I feel like there's something wrong with this college sometimes. Seriously, half of the students are disturbed, and pretty much the rest are thick, terrified, or both. What's with that?"

"Well, Gotham College _does_ have a reputation for accepting applications from the more academically lacking students, it's true, but it's not like there aren't normal people here. Not just us, either. One of the lab assistants over in the chemistry block is an ex-grad from here and he's sharp. You'd like him, I reckon."

Bruce smirked, sensing an opportunity for a childish joke. "Is he your booooyyyyfriiieeeend?" he teased.

"No," she snapped, "our dads work together and are good friends so we saw a lot of each other growing up."

"_Suurrree_. What's this guy's name, anyway? I wanna look him up on the staff database."

"He's called Lucius and I really don't think he'd appreciate that. When did you get access to the staff database, anyway?"

"Third day. Didn't mention it because for the most part the staff are pretty boring people. When do I get to meet this mystery guy, anyway?"

"We can go see him tomorrow at lunch if you want? Unless he's prepping an experiment, he'll have just as much time as we will."

"S'pose so. Right, I'm gonna doss off the afternoon computing sesh, I can't concentrate here. See you tomorrow."

"It's alright for some, Alfred doesn't give a shit whether you attend or not."

"That's because he knows I'll pass regardless."

"Self- assured bastard."

"I'm so glad you're my friend. You're so nice to me."

Barbara smiled so sweetly Bruce wondered if she was trying to give him diabetes, "see you tomorrow, Brucey."

"Lucius, are you busy?"

"Hey trouble. Long time no see… I'm kinda free, why?"

"Just trying to prove to Bruce here that we're not the only sane ones in this place."

Lucius smiled. The tall, dark skinned young man stood up from the chest of drawers he was currently knelt before, leaving an unsorted mess of conical flasks and boiling tubes resting on top of the open drawer. He quickly covered the few metres between them and shook Bruce's hand warmly.

"Pleased to meet you, Bruce. As Barbara has no doubt already told you, I'm Lucius. What can I do for you two?"

Bruce paused before answering, not really knowing why they were there except a social call. Lucius' voice wasn't business-like at all, but warm and inviting… almost as if he'd known him for years. Overall, Lucius reminded him of a young Morgan Freeman.

"Nothing much, just wondered whether it was all of the staff that are incapable of controlling bad students, or just some" he replied jokingly.

"Oh, I don't deal with discipline. I'm pretty much just admin," Lucius laughed. "I file folders, clean and sort equipment, do the paperwork, and set up experiments that require more than the time allocated to the learning periods. Boring stuff, really." He concluded.

"That's not true," Barbara smirked, "recently he's been doing some sleuthing, haven't you, Lu?"

Lucius winced at the nickname and Bruce quickly figured out that Barbara took pleasure in giving people embarrassing nicknames and figured that he wasn't too fussed with "Brucey".

"Well, there is that. Pretty sure there have been people swiping chemicals since we started the term. It's weird… The amounts that go missing aren't big enough to really matter, but it's always the same amounts and the same chemicals. I have no idea how they're going missing or why someone would want to take them. They're mostly completely inert."

The conversation quickly deteriorated into light-hearted bickering, resulting in Lucius and Barbara exchanging increasingly embarrassing stories from their childhoods to amuse Bruce. Lucius, being about 5 years Barbara's senior, had more stories than she did and so won out just before the bell to signal the end of lunch sounded. With a hurried goodbye, Bruce and Barbara left the lab just as the first students started filtering in. Bruce caught a glimpse of the fiery red haired girl he'd seen in the canteen during his first lunch before nearly choking on an overpowering mixture of flowery aromas.

**AN: **Have you noticed that the gaps between these chapters is getting longer? I have, and it's frustrating me. I apologise.

Anyway, quick notes:

**1) **I figured that most people are going to imagine Lucius Fox as how Morgan Freeman portrayed him, so I decided I'd roll with it.

**2) **In case you're worried, I don't want to add characters for the sake of adding them, so pretty much every character I mention in this story is important at least in passing… otherwise I'd spend the entire time writing descriptions for Batman's entire rogues gallery. Which is fun, but won't get any plot done. Speaking of which...

**3) **SOME SEMBLANCE OF A PLOT IS BEGINNING! You get 5 imaginary points if you guess correctly who has been stealing from the lab. No, I won't tell you if you're right, though these points will be awarded when the plot point is revealed in-story. Enough points are redeemable for early access to plot points.

**4) **And speaking of early access to plot points, I still need a beta. PM me if you don't mind going over my drivel once every 10 days or so... I currently have IRL friend and fellow nerd _thecrimsonnutcase _having an occasional nosey through chapters before I post them, but his spelling and grammar are terrifyingly awful. Which is not helpful.


	6. The Hangover (pt 1)

**_I'm already running out of amusing ways of putting this disclaimer._**

**AN:** Sorry about the lull in chapters, people. Distractions like university got in the way. Also, alcohol and family things. Nothing important... Except the university bit. Deadline is next week, and I've been stressed. Anyway, onto the chapter!

**-Gotham College-**

"How are you not hungover?" Bruce whined as he sat hunched in the back of the computer labs, his monitor swaying back and forth in front of him. He winced at the sickly sweet giggle he got in response from Barbara.

"Well… for one, 3 months more experience with drinking legally than you, but I think the reason you're feeling awful at the moment is either the result of trying to outdrink Lucius with Alfred's whiskey" - Bruce paled and dry-heaved at the mention of the dreaded w-word - "or the fact that you insisted on buying as many different cocktails as possible"

The small groan she received in response indicated that Barbara had hit a nerve. The weekend had been spent celebrating Bruce's 21st birthday, which he was now regretting and she was enjoying the novelty of being sharper than Bruce for once.

"Why don't we go see if Lu is faring any better than you at lunch? He might know something to take the edge off for your _poor_ head"

Bruce didn't like the patronising way in which she suggested it, but agreed with Barbara that it was a good idea. After a nauseating and disoriented half hour, the bell signalling lunch rang and they made their way along the now familiar route to Lucius' lab. Upon getting there, Barbara was the first of the pair to notice that although he was outwardly faring better than Bruce, Lucius was in pretty much the same state as him. About two seconds of wobbly studying later, Bruce came to a similar conclusion, and grunted in grim satisfaction.

"Hullo, Lucius"

"And hello to you too, Bruce. Nice to see you've managed to get up this morning. Back after my 21st, I didn't move for three days, let alone come into college. You looking for a hangover cure?"

"If you have one."

"Not that you deserve it, but I have what you need right now. Here, catch."

Bruce expertly caught the painkillers Lucius had flippantly chucked to him, popped a couple out and swallowed them with a swig of the water he'd been carrying around the entire morning.

"Thanks, how long do they take to kick in?"

"Somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour. And you're welcome."

"Lucius, do you know where that fluorine we had out yesterday went? I can't find it anywhere."

The three young adults turned to the source of the new voice - biology professor and primary lab technician, Dr. Adrian Cawley had just opened the door from the prep room into the lab. Short, friendly but fierce, Dr. Cawley had an air of mad scientist about him that made him intimidating the first couple of times you met him… at least until he revealed his chronic forgetfulness and clumsiness.

"Haven't seen it, Ade. Didn't know it had gone missing. Have you tried under the cleanup sinks?"

"I thought I had, but I'll double check. Hello again, Mr. Wayne, Miss Gordon."

"Hello sir"

Bruce shot a wary glance at Barbara - it wasn't disconcerting how she had managed to pick up on his nuances in the last couple months, but the fact that she was capable of mimicking him to the level of synchronising her speech with his before it was even christmas was a little more odd than he was used to. Sensing his discomfort, Barbara shot him one of the grins that were quickly becoming a trademark of hers.

After Dr. Cawley had left the lab again, shaking his head and muttering something, Lucius grew serious and dropped his voice.

"I'm pretty sure whoever has been taking things from the lab has swiped the fluorine too. I've made a list of al the things stolen, and I can't work out what it is they're trying to do with it. I must be missing something… might start cataloguing all the chemicals exactly, in case they've been taking something else without me noticing. Fluorine is the first chemical that has gone missing that's actually, well, _dangerous_ though…"

This was the straw that pushed Bruce into action. He had been growing increasingly skeptical of the college, and decided that simply looking through the databases didn't give him enough raw data. From tonight onward, he would stake out the laboratory and find out who is behind the thefts. Continuing conversation casually with Lucius and Barbara, he started scoping out the lab for good hiding places…

"I know what you're going to do"

"What?"

"I saw that look you had when you heard about the fluorine. You're going to start playing detective and find out who's doing it."

Bruce dropped his fork. How could Barbara read him that well?

"Fine, yes I am. I bet you're going to tell me it's stupid now aren't you?"

"Actually, I think it's cute" - Bruce glared at her - "and a good idea. Cawley's too incompetent to find out what's going on, and LuLu can't do it on his own. What time are you coming back here?"

They were sitting in the canteen, Bruce having finally recovered enough to stomach food, and it happened to be what everyone else called lunchtime. This meant, unfortunately for the still sensitive Bruce, that there was a lot of noise and a high chance of fights breaking out around them. It also meant that the people Bruce had been actively avoiding were in there at the same time as him… which he felt would end very badly.

As it turned out, he was right. The dropping of his fork alerted the strange, pale boy's surprisingly attentive ears to Bruce and Barbara's presence. He span in his seat at the opposite side of the room, and locked on immediately to their position. A look of pure, unadulterated elation spread across his red lips as he scrambled off of his chair and skipped across to them.

"Helloooooo, bat-boy! I haven't seen you in ages!"

With a near-deafening whoop, the gangly stranger launched himself at Bruce, arms open as if to hug him.

"Why haven't you come to see me? Oh I've missed you SO much! Come on, come on. Let's introduced you to the rest of the gang."

A stunned Bruce got dragged back over to the corner where his apparent abductor appeared from, getting only the briefest of glances back at an apologetic and worried Barbara…

**AN: **Yes, a cliffhanger. Sorry. I couldn't find a way of ending this chapter that I was happy with, so I just cut it there instead. On the plus side, I'll probably upload the next chapter quite quickly as an apology.


	7. The Hangover (pt 2)

_**Batman never left DC's ownership, it was all just an illusion.**_

**AN: **So here's the second half of that chapter. Please review it, it really does help motivate me into writing more. Also, I've now written over half of my chapters after staying up all night. Reading FanFiction.

**-Gotham College-**

"Now then Bats, this is Harley. I mentioned her before, don't you remember? Awfully good sense of humour, she laughs at all of my jokes. Quite the kisser too…"

Bruce, in his still tender state, barely took in the features of the girl in front of him. She seemed tall at first glance, but that was mostly due to the red-and-black checkered boots she wore that simultaneously gave her a few extra inches and the illusion that her legs took up the majority of her body mass. Her face, whilst not unattractive, was only really remarkable due to the fact it was masked by an uneven abundance of black eyeshadow and a liberal application of pale makeup that matched Bruce's friendly captor's skin tone. He momentarily wondered if this was intentional, or if Harley was just a big KISS fan… before he could reach his conclusions, he was torn away from the bemusing girl (today, outfitted in a comparatively normal getup of black skinny jeans and a red corset) and thrown in front of a muscular, tanned guy in a tank top and baggy jeans. The unfamiliar boy glared at Bruce with menacing eyes for a moment before leaning over to another new face - a nearly 7 foot tall black behemoth with some of the most thorough cases of eczema Bruce had ever seen. The tanned one whispered something in mexican to his compadre and the impeding figure spoke loudly to their ringleader, his voice reverberating at such a low frequency Bruce felt it in his stomach.

"He wants to know why you've brought over this sack of crap, who's dressed up like Dracula, over here to our table. Shall I tell him we've got a new sparring partner?"

Bruce balked as the question hung in the air. The words themselves seemed intimidating on their own, but the sick and sadistic grin that they came out of concerned him far more. He glanced nervously at his unwanted guide, silently praying that he didn't say something that these two could take as a 'yes'. He wasn't a slouch in the ring, and new the basics of a good few martial arts, but Bruce knew that if either one of these guys got hold of him, he would be in for a world of hurt.

"Don't be so mean, Croc! I'm just introducing my good friend here to all of you! Maybe one day he'll want to play with you two, but after you've been so rude? I don't think you made a good first impression."

Blinking, Bruce tried to process what the boy (now practically draped over his shoulders) had just said. Or more to the point, how he had said it. He didn't know many people that could make the phrase 'a good first impression' sound like a deadly threat, and none of them could do it with a smile on their face… whenever Bruce was around this boy, every muscle in his body seemed to scream 'DANGER'.

"Sorry about those two," his companion said aside to Bruce, returning to it's overly-friendly, off-beat manner, "they're on the wrestling team, and they get a little carried away with their workouts. I'm led to believe one who isn't Croc doesn't speak a word of English, imagine that! He's the bane of my existence, I tell you… Now come on, let's meet dear old Harvey here."

In what felt like a flash, Bruce was in front of yet another person who his instincts told him to turn and run from. The boy who he had seen on his first day who had been flipping a quarter, sneered at him from barely 10 inches away before stepping back to look at Bruce properly.

"Next time you introduce me to one of your chew toys, Jay, could you at least put him OUTSIDE of my personal space?"

The request came hard, cold, and sharp… It seemed that the pale boy's habit of invading Bruce's personal space was something he was willing to do to others too, and this guy wasn't taking any more of it. The acne that Bruce had noticed from afar seemed to have worsened, and it looked like this boy had started to scratch at it, making half of his face red and raw. This time, however, he wasn't flipping his coin, simply fiddling with it in his hand.

"Sorry about him. As Jay here has already said, I'm Harvey."

Bruce was taken aback by the unexpected normality in front of him. Quickly recovering, he shook the hand that hand been extended to him with caution. Before he could introduce himself to Harvey, he was interrupted by a joyous stage whisper from the boy Harvey had referred to as Jay.

"You want to be careful around this one, Bat-boy. He's CRAZY!"

"I have schizophrenia, so technically he's right. It's alright though, I'm medicated." Harvey gave him a sad smile and sat down at the table "will you be joining us for lunch regularly, or are you being press-ganged into meeting us all? I won't be offended if it's the latter, he does this more often than you'd think."

Bruce returned the smile, "press-ganged, I'm afraid. You don't seem too bad, but I get the impression the others don't like me, so I probably won't be visiting too often."

"Fair enough, though you haven't met John. He's about as normal as we get around here… Takes his course a little too seriously, though."

"What does he take?" Bruce was genuinely interested for the moment, temporarily forgetting that he was way out of his comfort zone and eager to discover new information.

"Psychology. Anyway, I'm not going to keep you, Jay's already bored of us and is back with Harley, your food is going cold, and your lady friend looks like she doesn't know whether she should be laughing, worried, or jealous. You should probably get going… Oswald is bound to make a scene again if he sees you in this corner."

* * *

**MORE AN:** Starting to feel like this short story needs to begin wrapping up soon. I feel like I've built enough of this world up for the plot to actually occur now, and while it's been fun, my method of writing this has taken it's toll and I'm not sure how I can keep the narrative on track. Can you tell? Please tell me you can't tell.

Much love, people. I'll try and post more frequently, but don't be surprised if I don't. We're probably around halfway through this now. I'm aiming for about 15-20 chapters, but I have a suspicion it'll fall more towards 12/13.


	8. Author's Note, don't get excited

Hey to all four or five of you who read this story regularly, sorry for the lack of chapters. I write as a form of escapism, and recently I haven't had much to escape from... life's been pretty good, and thus I haven't been writing.

I'll probably start back up when I restart university at the end of the month though... not only is it the thing I like to escape from by writing, but it's also my biggest source of inspiration. Being back in the studying funk will one (way or another) revive this story to it's pitiful levels of frequency. I hope.

So, in short, sorry for being a bum and not updating. And I'll update soon. Probably.

Remember, a story is never dead or abandoned, just on a hiatus. I swear I'll see this through to the bitter end. Or lager end if you prefer.


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